The Lost
by Daethule
Summary: Aragorn discovers the secret of the child of the haunted falls of Rivendell, and the only way to lay him to rest. One shot


A/N: alright, alright. I know I keep promising the next chappie in POTE, but I wrote this and just haaaad to post it. The poetry in it is my own. Other than that, I own nothing…except for the wording. And the idea…I think. Oh, and the rating is just to be safe, 'cause I don't want it to get deleted.

I figure Aragorn to be around 40 in this fic. I can't recall if he ever returned to Rivendell between the ages of 20 and 87 and I'm too lazy to look it up, but let's just say he does.

Summary: Aragorn discovers the secret of the child of the haunted falls of Rivendell, and the only way to lay him to rest.

The Lost

Aragorn sighed contentedly, reclining back on the lush grass, the sound of the nearby roaring waterfall drowning out all other noise. It was good to be home. This was his favorite time of year to return to Rivendell. The sun was warm but there was a cool breeze, and the air was clear.

This place, a green hollow right near the base of the fall, was the Man's favorite place to come to, and had always been. Mostly he came to this peaceful place to be alone, for as a child he had found that no one ever came here, not even his Elven brothers, though he could not guess why. It was one of the most beautiful places in the Hidden Valley, and a perfect spot for swimming.

The constant rumble of the waterfall was lulling him to sleep as he lay there, forgetting for a while the rest of the world. His heavy lids were just about to slip shut when a nearby call of "Estel!" startled him awake. He glared in the direction it had come from, but it was broken by his smile. Even after all these years his brothers still called him by his childhood name.

"I'm over here!" he shouted, knowing that the other could hear him, even over the sound of the waterfall.

"Well come over here!"

"No! Come and get me!" He laughed to himself.

"Fine! Stay there and starve!" the indignant shout came back.

Aragorn lay back on the grass, hands behind his head, grinning. He dimly wondered again why no one ever came to this place, although it really did not matter. All the better for him.

He had just closed his eyes again why he heard an odd sound over the roar of the falls, as if it were carried to him on the water. He cracked an eye open, but when he did not hear it again, he decided that he had imagined it and closed his eyes again. He sat suddenly up, and this time he was certain of the laughter he had heard.

There was always much laughter in Imladris, although normally the sound of the falls would have covered it. Even stranger, though, was that it was child's laughter. Never in Rivendell had he heard the sound of a child's laughter besides his own. But this was no mortal child, and not for many hundreds of years before him, he knew, had there been an Elven-child in Imladris.

Curious, Aragorn stood and scanned the opposite shore, covered in mist. He was just about to turn away when a flash of gold caught his eye. His eyes widened, for where he had just looked a moment ago, there now stood a golden-haired Elf-child, only half his height. Even from the distance he could see the bright blue of his eyes. His lips were moving, but no sound could be heard.

Aragorn blinked and the child was gone. He stared for a moment at the opposite bank, then passed a hand over his eyes as one just woken from a dream, and shook his head. He hurried back to the House, not looking back.

…………

"What is wrong, Aragorn?"

Aragorn looked up in surprise to Elrond, his foster father. He had not noticed the Elf lord watching him throughout the evening meal.

"Uh, nothing," he quickly answered.

"Aragorn," Elrond began in a slight reprimanding tone. "Do you not yet know that I can see right through you? You have barely touched your food, and have not said a word."

"Oh. I was just thinking about…different things," the Man replied, shoving a huge chunk of meat into his mouth. The twins laughed quietly to themselves as they watched him try to chew it, and even Elrond had to smother a smile.

Aragorn felt a blush rising up his face. No matter how old he was, he always felt like a child in the presence of these Elves. To hide his embarrassment, he casually stated, "I saw an odd thing today."

"Oh?" Elrond raised an eyebrow, smiling and tapping his lips with his finger.

Aragorn hurriedly wiped his mouth before continuing. "I saw an Elf child today."

The twins raised their eyebrows, making all three look alike. Then Elladan laughed. "You clearly need more sleep, Estel. You only just arrived yesterday, after all."

"Perhaps that weed he is always smoking has finally gone to his brain," Elrohir added, trying to look serious.

"I know what I saw," Aragorn defended lamely.

"Estel, there has not been any Elf child anywhere for…" Elrond paused, as if trying to count the many years.

"I know!"

"So where did he go?" Elladan asked.

"I do not know. He…" The Man hesitated, knowing how ridiculous he would sound. "…disappeared."

"Disappeared?" The twins snorted, but Elrond started to look concerned.

"I am serious! He had golden hair and bright blue eyes."

A shadow fell over the eyes of the Elves, though the twins still smiled. Besides foreigners, the only Elves in Rivendell who had golden hair were a few ancient counselors, but none of them even had blue eyes.

"Where was this, exactly?" Elrond asked, although he had a growing suspicion that he already knew.

"At the base of the waterfall, on the west side," Aragorn mumbled, now thoroughly embarrassed.

Immediately a heavy silence fell on the room, and the three Elves became deadly serious. "Never return to that place, Estel," Elrond commanded quietly.

"Why? What is wrong?" Aragorn asked in growing concern.

"That place is haunted," Elrohir whispered, as if afraid of being overheard, though they were the only four in that room.

"Elrohir," Elrond quietly rebuked.

"It is true," the twin hissed back.

"Haunted?" Aragorn echoed, his interest piqued. He had heard such tales of ghosts and things during his travels with the Rangers, but never anything of the sort in an Elven realm. "What do you mean?"

But they did not answer. At a sharp glance from Elrond, the Man wisely decided to drop it. The twins did not eat any more and soon excused themselves.

"What is wrong with them?" Aragorn asked softly.

"Nothing." Elrond stood, laying a hand on the Man's shoulder as he passed. "Get some sleep. Do not trouble yourself over this any longer."

…………

Aragorn somehow managed to do just that for the entirety of the next day, but the day after, he could no longer take it.

He returned to the waterfall, this time to the bank he had seen the child standing on, but there was no sign of him, nor sound of the laughter of before.

He sat down on the lush grass, idly plucking a blade. He loved the way the sun glinted off the water, oftentimes sending it into a myriad of different colours. He marveled that this place could be considered haunted, although it did at last answer his question as to why no one ever went there.

His head snapped up as there was a whisper on the wind. He could not make out the words, but could distinctly tell where they were coming from—the green hollow on the opposite shore.

Aragorn quickly stood and easily waded across the water, for though the waterfall was very near, the resulting stream was remarkably calm—the work of Vilya, no doubt.

A flash of gold drew his attention and he plunged into the trees and undergrowth, hoping to overcome it. He broke into a small clearing, but there was no sign of what he sought. The whisper came again, this time from the direction he had just come. He moved slowly this time, the words growing louder as he approached the bank.

He stopped a few yards away from the figure he found there, crouching over a small patch of dirt. The child had his back to Aragorn, but now the Man could clearly understand the words of the slow chant.

_My blood runs into the river,_

_I come bearing my soul hither._

Aragorn was drawn forward, horrified by the morbid words coming from this child.

_Blue tainted red,_

_Now I am dead._

Aragorn was close enough now to see what the child was doing. He was drawing with his finger in the dirt, and the Man was surprised to see three smiling little figures, hands linked. Still the child did not look up at him, and Aragorn could not see his face even though he was now standing right beside him, for his long golden hair shielded it from view.

Silently 

_Soul flees_

At last the child looked up at him, straight into his eyes, and Aragorn recoiled in horror. Blood streamed from his eyes, pouring down his face and onto the ground, where it found its way to the stream and tainted it red.

Hand poised over the drawing in the dirt, the child swiftly drew his hand across it as he said the last word, completely erasing the middle figure.

_Dead._

Aragorn turned and ran as fast as he could, not once turning back, though long he could feel the child's gaze on his retreating back.

…………

The rest of that day Aragorn spent in his room, trying to forget the horror of the child's eyes. Yet however much he did not wish to dwell on it, he found that he could not let the matter rest. The most dominant thought in his mind was why. Why was the child there? What had happened to him that he now haunted those falls?

All that night he was plagued by dark dreams of death and blood, the child's words echoing continually through his mind.

In the morning he rose early, weary from the previous night, and decided to take a long walk outdoors to clear his mind. The fresh air quickly revived him, and soon he was able to put the matter of the child to the back of his mind and enjoy the nature around him.

…Until he came to an old clearing, where all was silent and still. There, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the clearing, hands folded neatly in his lap, the child calmly stared up at him. Aragorn was about to turn and run again when he noticed that all previous signs of the blood on the child's face were now gone. If it had not been for the shining gold hair, Aragorn doubted he would have even seen the child right away, for his clothing of green and brown blended in remarkably well with his surroundings.

Aragorn took a hesitant step forward before the child spoke.

These wounds I have—they just won't heal 

_I am not dead, for I was killed._

As he spoke, the child lifted his hands upward to Aragorn. They were now covered in blood. The Man suddenly noticed for the first time—though how it had escaped his notice before, he could not guess—that the child sat in the midst of an ever-growing pool of blood, the source of which seemed to be his hands. He took a step back in disgust as the blood reached his boots.

The child's words came to his retreating form clearly as he ran.

Won't someone stop this blood flowing? 

_Won't someone fix this living thing?_

At last Aragorn could stand it no longer. He had to know. Elrohir was the first he found upon returning to the House, and he grabbed the Elf's arm, forcing him to look at him. "Tell me now. What do you know of the child of the falls??"

Elrohir hesitated, but gave way to the look in the Man's eyes. He would not be dissuaded until he knew all there was to tell. "Not here."

…………

Elrohir quietly shut the door to his bedroom, sitting on the bed with Aragorn across from him in an overstuffed chair. "Where to begin?" He forced a smile.

"At the beginning," Aragorn commanded. "What happened to him?"

"He died. But that is not the beginning."

"Then tell me how you know of him."

"Everybody in this valley knows _of_ him, Estel. Ever since he was first sighted there, the place has been known as haunted, and none dare go there any longer.

"But Elladan and I knew him personally very long ago, thousands of years, when he was still living. He was our greatest friend."

Aragorn could see the pain in his brother's eyes as he recalled the past, but he had to know more.

"The three of us were the very best of friends, surpassing even brothers in our bond. He came here every summer, being from Mirkwood—then still Greenwood."

"Who was he?" Aragorn interrupted softly.

"Legolas, son of Thranduil." Just saying his name brought renewed pain to Elrohir's heart.

"The king?" The Elf nodded. Aragorn was surprised. He had never heard that the short-tempered king of Mirkwood had a child—though that perhaps explained much about him.

"The waterfall was our favorite place to play when he visited. Often we would swim in the cool water, but much of the time we spent playing in the little green hollow beside." Elrohir smiled faintly as he recalled those carefree days of youth, so long gone.

"So what happened?" Aragorn asked the question that most burned in his mind, and the smile faded from Elrohir's lips.

"It was a hunting accident. He would often wander far alone while Elladan and I were busy. He loved nature. But that day he wandered too far.

"No one knows quite how it happened. It was just a stray arrow." Elrohir grimaced. "It pierced nearly straight through his chest. Now no one goes to the clearing where it happened, either.

"The hunters brought him to Father as quickly as they could, and he was still alive at the time, though it was hopeless from the beginning. He was just too young. We were all so young…

"Father tried to keep us out, but he was busy trying to save Legolas. I remember the blood. It covered his clothes and hands—there was even some on his face. It made him look as though he were weeping blood as his tears of pain mixed with it. There was so much blood…" Elrohir's eyes had gained a far-seeing look, and Aragorn knew he was seeing the blood again. "We watched as he drew his last breath…everyone in the room could feel as he left." Elrohir gave a deep shuddering sigh, returning to the present. "They took his body back to Mirkwood, and we have not seen him since."

Aragorn stood, laying a comforting hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "Thank you, brother. I think that now I understand."

…………

Aragorn returned once more to the little green hollow, now not at all surprised to see the golden-haired child playing in the middle of it. His hair looked wet, as if he had been swimming, and there was no sign of any blood.

Legolas stood as Aragorn approached, and the Man knelt a few feet away from him to be nearer eye level. "What do you want me to do?" he asked softly.

The child merely started backing away from him and Aragorn stood to follow.

_We were friends three, now we are two._

_Our worst nightmare has since come true._

As he spoke, Legolas touched a hand to his chest, but when he brought it away, it was covered in blood. The crimson liquid now streamed from a deep wound in the near middle of his chest, but Aragorn continued to follow.

Do you remember those warm days When by the water's edge we played? 

He ducked behind a tree, but when Aragorn peered round the trunk a moment later, there was no sign of him.

Or have you now forgotten me? 

_I'm left behind in this dark sea._

Aragorn looked up to see the child now standing several yards away. Blood now covered all his clothes, and dripped from his mouth as he spoke. He held up a small wooden object, and Aragorn advanced.

Why do you never come now by? 

Aragorn saw it was a small wooden boat, obviously carved by a child, though with great care, complete with a little white sail and flower attached to the mast. Aragorn gently took it from the child, who only continued to stare up at him.

_My two old friends, come say goodbye._

Aragorn nodded and turned away, careful not to damage the little boat.

…………

"Elladan, Elrohir." The twins looked up at the Man. He held something carefully in his hands, though they could not tell what. "He is waiting for you."

They did not have to ask who "he" was. Elrohir had told his twin what he had said to Aragorn. The Man now held the little boat forward, and the twins gasped, starting up.

Elladan smiled faintly as he gently took it. "This was our favorite plaything in the water. We three carved it the first summer he visited. I had forgotten about it."

"So had I," Elrohir replied, eyes alight. "I thought it had been lost. Where did you…?"

"You must return to the falls," Aragorn answered only.

Elladan carefully wrapped the little boat in his cloak. "We know. Are you coming?"

"No."

Elladan nodded in understanding. They had to do this themselves, alone.

…………

Come again to this old place 

_And lay the past to rest_

_Wipe the tears from this pale face_

_And lay me on your breast._

Elladan and Elrohir soon found themselves standing in the little green hollow, overcome with the many memories the three had shared there. Hesitantly they walked to the stream's edge, sitting beside it and feeling the coolness of the water.

Slowly Elladan unwrapped the boat and drew it out from his cloak. The white flower and sail shone in the sun. Together, he and Elrohir gently set it in the water, watching as it floated there for a moment. Before their eyes, the white sail faded and turned a dull grey, hanging limply on its little mast. The flower wilted and turned brown, then crumbled into dust.

"Farewell, Legolas, closer than brother."

"We shall never again forget you, we swear."

They raised their eyes to the opposite shore, where stood a fair, golden-haired child. There was peace in his eyes and a smile on his lips as he gazed back at them. He closed his eyes and slowly faded from their sight.

The twins watched as the little boat floated downstream until it was lost from sight. Then they turned and slowly walked back to the House, an arm around the other in comfort.

The two halted, however, as a young voice came to them, as if borne on the shoulders of the water—the last that voice was heard or its owner seen in Middle-earth.

These red tears shine on my face 

_Grant me only this one grace—_

_Love me always and stay true_

_To this child you once knew._

…………

The End. Good? Bad? Just tacky? Let me know!


End file.
